Chapter Eight WestonI don’t see Jane at all on Wednesday. Not at the morning meeting, not during training workouts, not at lunch, not at my practice drills. Which gives me plenty of time to work myself up into a neurotic lather, wondering what her disappearance means.
I thought yesterday’s date went pretty well—no, not a date, our totally platonic hangout, I correct myself for the thousandth time. But now I have no idea what’s going on in her head.
Is she avoiding me? Did I somehow f**k everything up again? Or maybe she’s not even thinking about me at all. I guess that possibility is better than her being mad at me, but it doesn’t sting much less.
Holy s**t, man, get a grip.
This is a meaningless coincidence. She’s probably just busy with paperwork or something. Or maybe she’s sick. Bu
